Chickens in the city? Converse Heights, of all places? Oh, my! Speaking words found in Ecclesiastes, Lib Smith says, “There’s nothing new under the sun.” She remembers when she was a kid living on Otis Boulevard in Converse Heights, where her grandparents living on the same street had chickens. “Not only that, but Bobby Chapman just down the street had a pony. So I had to laugh when reading that the doctor living in Converse Heights wants permission from City Council to have a chicken coop. Chickens were there long before this council.”
‘HAD THEIR DAY’: James Price of Inman smells a rat in the pricing of gasoline: “The government and everybody made us believe it was coming down, and folks went to the resorts and traveled again, and as soon as they did, the price shot back up. Maybe they had their day just lying to people.”
‘OUTSTANDING’: Ted Young of Woodruff was mighty impressed by the work of Laurens Electric during a recent storm. “They deserve kudos,” he says. “A tree fell across my power line on a Friday night, and I called at 1:30 in the morning to report it. I was expecting it to be a miserable weekend without power, but they surprised me. They had the line repaired and my power back on by 3:30 that morning. That’s outstanding work. They really did a fine job.”
2011年8月7日星期日
2011年7月20日星期三
Study examines Pie Ranch poultry pasture
A red chicken coop at Pie Ranch in Pescadero is attached to an old artichoke trailer - sort of like a Winnebago for about 120 feathery travelers - so that it can be easily wheeled around the farm.
Every few days, Pie Ranch co-founder Nancy Vail moves the mobile coop to a different strip of fallow farmland for the chicken to use as pasture.
That gives the chickens plenty of ground to scratch, peck and use as a toilet. And that's a good thing, Vail said, because chicken manure is a strong fertilizer, giving the soil a boost of nutrients so it can later grow more produce.
Unlike other ways to fertilize soil, the benefits of having chickens pasture on fallow farmland has been based more on gut feeling than science.
Last week, Kathleen Hilimire, an environmental studies graduate student from the University of California, Santa Cruz, gave a short lecture at Pie Ranch to deliver her findings from the first study of chicken pasturing.
"It's been well-known that chicken manure is an effective plant fertilizer," Hilimire said. "Instead of the farmer applying manure, you have all these animals just running around applying it."
Researching the practice for her doctoral dissertation, Hilimire has been studying the soil quality and food-safety issues associated with chicken fertilizers.
Chicken compost, she notes, contains a tremendous amount of potassium, nitrogen, phosphorus and often calcium. Like any other manure, the droppings also can contain pathogens, so Hilimire strongly recommended the farmers wait about 120 days between applying manure and harvesting crops.
Her study led her to locate about 40 farmers in California who practice free-range chicken pasturing, including Pie Ranch. The Pescadero farm has been rotating chickens on and off different swaths of farmland since it first started in 2005.
During her study at Pie Ranch, Hilimire compared two farm sections growing strawberries, one that had been used for chicken pasturing and another that hadn't. Surprisingly, the chicken pasture didn't do as well, but Vail said that was really because they didn't know how to fine-tune the pasturing into their crop rotation.
"We're still trying to figure this out," she said. "It takes a long time to really get this down ... It's incredible now that there's firm research."
Every few days, Pie Ranch co-founder Nancy Vail moves the mobile coop to a different strip of fallow farmland for the chicken to use as pasture.
That gives the chickens plenty of ground to scratch, peck and use as a toilet. And that's a good thing, Vail said, because chicken manure is a strong fertilizer, giving the soil a boost of nutrients so it can later grow more produce.
Unlike other ways to fertilize soil, the benefits of having chickens pasture on fallow farmland has been based more on gut feeling than science.
Last week, Kathleen Hilimire, an environmental studies graduate student from the University of California, Santa Cruz, gave a short lecture at Pie Ranch to deliver her findings from the first study of chicken pasturing.
"It's been well-known that chicken manure is an effective plant fertilizer," Hilimire said. "Instead of the farmer applying manure, you have all these animals just running around applying it."
Researching the practice for her doctoral dissertation, Hilimire has been studying the soil quality and food-safety issues associated with chicken fertilizers.
Chicken compost, she notes, contains a tremendous amount of potassium, nitrogen, phosphorus and often calcium. Like any other manure, the droppings also can contain pathogens, so Hilimire strongly recommended the farmers wait about 120 days between applying manure and harvesting crops.
Her study led her to locate about 40 farmers in California who practice free-range chicken pasturing, including Pie Ranch. The Pescadero farm has been rotating chickens on and off different swaths of farmland since it first started in 2005.
During her study at Pie Ranch, Hilimire compared two farm sections growing strawberries, one that had been used for chicken pasturing and another that hadn't. Surprisingly, the chicken pasture didn't do as well, but Vail said that was really because they didn't know how to fine-tune the pasturing into their crop rotation.
"We're still trying to figure this out," she said. "It takes a long time to really get this down ... It's incredible now that there's firm research."
2011年5月15日星期日
On the trail of village petty thieves
Writer Nanjinia Wamuswa posted an update on his Facebook page that had me rolling with laughter.
Sample this. "Petty thieving at grassroots level is both funny and perplexing. A man slaughters a chicken and leaves it at the back of his hut to grab hot water for removing the feathers. But when he returns seconds later, the dead bird is gone!"
I laughed because in normal circumstances, the louts break into your chicken coop and make off with a few hefty jogoos. Those with a sense of humour even fix dinner although how they manage these acrobatics without the chickens squealing and your good-for-nothing mongrel being in the know is mind-boggling.
Curiously, while a fat chicken goes for as much Sh500 in the village, petty thieves don’t sell them. When you trail their footprints the next morning, they lead to a hideout where a cursory scene of crime investigation reveals they slaughtered, roasted and ate them.
Unfortunately, you can never arrest them because in nearly all circumstances, they are always related to you. Now farmers have wizened up and these days, chicken coops and granaries are more fortified than your average bank. So desperate is the situation that, as Nanjinia points out, the only recourse for petty thieves is to wait till your back is turned after slaughtering your bird.
Stealing food
I was still chuckling about this when my sister-in-law informed me that she had fallen victim to the louts again. Barely 8pm in the night, as she took a bath, they sneaked into her kitchen and made away with the dinner she had prepared for her family. Being people with foresight, they grabbed all her utensils and her bucket of maize flour as well. Whether Simba, the family dog, saw them is still a mystery because so far, he has steadfastly refused to assist with investigations. But the petty thieves who did me in were not quite petty. It started when I espied my little cousin, Vivian, buying fish at the market and conveniently offered her a lift to her house. So there I was watching TV and cracking silly jokes while the aforementioned tilapia stewed.
Deathly silence
The meal was delicious and certainly worth the 23km drive back home. After I had made short work of the menu, I burped contentedly and rose to leave, taking note of the fact that when I said "thanks for dinner", she said I was most welcome.
Now imagine getting my full belly behind the steering wheel on a dark, rainy night and cranking the starter only to be met by deathly silence. My battery was gone. Gone with the wind! As we speak, the proceeds of its sale have most likely paid school fees for Mama Pima’s daughter.
So while COTU boss Francis Atwoli is screaming blue murder about the high cost of living, petty thieves are laughing all the way to the village chicken coop.
Sample this. "Petty thieving at grassroots level is both funny and perplexing. A man slaughters a chicken and leaves it at the back of his hut to grab hot water for removing the feathers. But when he returns seconds later, the dead bird is gone!"
I laughed because in normal circumstances, the louts break into your chicken coop and make off with a few hefty jogoos. Those with a sense of humour even fix dinner although how they manage these acrobatics without the chickens squealing and your good-for-nothing mongrel being in the know is mind-boggling.
Curiously, while a fat chicken goes for as much Sh500 in the village, petty thieves don’t sell them. When you trail their footprints the next morning, they lead to a hideout where a cursory scene of crime investigation reveals they slaughtered, roasted and ate them.
Unfortunately, you can never arrest them because in nearly all circumstances, they are always related to you. Now farmers have wizened up and these days, chicken coops and granaries are more fortified than your average bank. So desperate is the situation that, as Nanjinia points out, the only recourse for petty thieves is to wait till your back is turned after slaughtering your bird.
Stealing food
I was still chuckling about this when my sister-in-law informed me that she had fallen victim to the louts again. Barely 8pm in the night, as she took a bath, they sneaked into her kitchen and made away with the dinner she had prepared for her family. Being people with foresight, they grabbed all her utensils and her bucket of maize flour as well. Whether Simba, the family dog, saw them is still a mystery because so far, he has steadfastly refused to assist with investigations. But the petty thieves who did me in were not quite petty. It started when I espied my little cousin, Vivian, buying fish at the market and conveniently offered her a lift to her house. So there I was watching TV and cracking silly jokes while the aforementioned tilapia stewed.
Deathly silence
The meal was delicious and certainly worth the 23km drive back home. After I had made short work of the menu, I burped contentedly and rose to leave, taking note of the fact that when I said "thanks for dinner", she said I was most welcome.
Now imagine getting my full belly behind the steering wheel on a dark, rainy night and cranking the starter only to be met by deathly silence. My battery was gone. Gone with the wind! As we speak, the proceeds of its sale have most likely paid school fees for Mama Pima’s daughter.
So while COTU boss Francis Atwoli is screaming blue murder about the high cost of living, petty thieves are laughing all the way to the village chicken coop.
订阅：
博文 (Atom)